Rivals, Heroes, Friends
by The dudeoffanfiction
Summary: "I could have died that night. Instead, he saved me when he had no business doing so. And though I've been through many near-death experiences since, I never once worried about dying unfulfilled. Because so long as I died chasing the dream that he taught me was possible, I'd be content." -Zael (AU)
1. Chapter 1

**1: Pulled from the Brink**

Haze engulfed Lazulis City that day.

Just a week ago, I'd expressed interest in going to my Dad. My family and I tended a farm on the city's northern outskirts, and my mother feared the moral corruption that might have plagued the city. So, the only one who ever traveled there was my father. He'd sell our excess crops at the market.

My young mind couldn't comprehend how crime festered in a densely populated area where someone would surely be around to witness other's misdeeds no matter where you were. Indeed, even my father entertained the notion that the city wasn't all bad, but he hardly felt a strong enough conviction to defend that notion. Thus, he remained mum about it.

In the end, the city didn't do us in. Highwaymen scavenging the area for wealthy tourists from the city proved more pressing a danger.

Most never roamed far enough to find our home. That day, we were unlucky.

I never even saw them. My only information came from something my Father mumbled to himself. Without explaining anything to me, he beckoned my mother and me to flee out the back door.

It wasn't long before we heard screaming.

Holding back tears, my mother lied over and over those were the screams of the "bad men". Young as I was, I believed her. Nonetheless, I noticed her holding back tears.

My family wasn't particularly religious. My father in particular was very down-to-earth. Maybe that's why I felt no compulsion to blame some higher power when one of their scouts saw us running down the seaside pathway.

He dashed for us. I guessed he figured we were going to the city to tell them what happened. Despite my mother's pleas, I made no attempt to run. Something inside of me thought, _"As long as I'm with mum, we'll be fine."_ Such was the pathetically mundane existence I lived.

Before he could draw his weapon, my mother tackled him, forcing him off the cliff. I made a pointless effort to reach for her hand, so I could keep her up, but I wouldn't have dared. My nightmares of falling off that very cliff prevented me from showing such bravado.

The man yelled at the top of his lungs. I watched transfixed as their bodies hit the water below. Red tainted the spot they landed in.

Then, it occurred to me what had happened. Tears streaking down my face, I ran as fast as I could for the city.

It took me almost an hour. I had to stop several times. A kindly noble – my mom would say such people didn't exist – on his way back from a tour of the sea side let me ride in the back of his carriage with the luggage.

Okay, so he wasn't _that_ kind.

The second we entered the city, I jumped off. I think he planned to get in contact with an orphanage of some kind, but I was impatient. In my heart of hearts, I knew my father survived. I saw his body, encrusted in dry blood. He reached out to nowhere, crying for help.

I wanted to be his hero.

Rain cast a gray hue over the city. However, the picturesque quality mattered little to me.

I bugged every passerby to call for help. No one I met helped me. Some said they didn't know where the "knights" were. Others brushed me off, discarding me as sewer trash no better than rats.

Mum was right. I fell to my knees and sobbed.

It was pathetic. My father's life on the line, and there I was feeling sorry for myself. Some glanced worriedly in my direction, but none made the effort to help me. I cried alone.

The city around me blurred considerably. Ambient noise I'd never known tortured me at every angle. My throat, sore from crying, desperately tried to force some manner of sound out my mouth.

Even though it was summer, I was damp and cold.

"Hey,"

A firm voice, a year or two older than mine, towered above the other sounds around me. Nonetheless, I failed to respond.

"Hey! You won't get any warmer letting the rain soak into your skin."

Finally, I lifted my head. I must have looked ridiculous, my face covered in snot and tears.

"C-can you 'elp me? Please… My dad's dying out there…"

"Out where?" He lifted me off the ground. "If you don't tell me exactly where he is, I can't do anything for you."

It's then I got a good look at him. He wore a heavy black sheet like a cloak, likely to keep himself warm from the rain. He wasn't some noble looking to exploit the lower class, that's for sure. Though, I knew for a fact my Mum would hate him.

As this ran through my head, my resolve to deny what happened disappeared. I held on to his shoulders and buried my face in his… cloak.

"I'm sorry… There's nothing you can do… It's too late…"

"What do you—" He cut himself off. This intuition alone convinced me he was a lot smarter than me. Honestly, that made it more likely he'd be willing to sell me off for some cash, if my mom was right about this sort of thing, but I didn't care. I had no where to go. I had no where I wanted to go.

I had no friends, no other family I knew of. Mum and Dad were all I had.

"What's the point of living without 'em…"

I couldn't see his face. Instead, I felt a firm grip on my shoulder.

"What's your name?"

"It doesn't matter—"

"What's. Your name?"

I gazed into his eyes. His expression stayed tight-lipped, but I detected tenderness in his eyes. Though he had an odd way of showing it, he wanted to help me.

"Z-Zael…"

"Zael," he confirmed, going down on one knee. He flipped back his "hood" revealing raven hair that, up till now, had remained untouched by the dampness surrounding us. "Did your parents love you?"

I tried desperately to wipe the gunk off my face. "Yes,"

"Did you make it out on your own, or did they save you?"

"They… they saved me,"

"Then, the answer is clear," he stood up again. "They want you to live. Why would they have sacrificed so much for you otherwise?"

I had no answer to that.

"There will be a time for tears. Right now, you need to pull your pants up, and find shelter."

"I…" I surveyed my surroundings. I'd never seen such tall buildings for. "I don't know."

"You don't know what?"

"M-my mum said cities are dangerous. I-I don't want to die."

"If the city were really all that dangerous, don't you think I'd be dead?"

I couldn't argue with him there.

"It's clear you've been spoiled rotten," he nodded to himself, "alright. I'll probably kick myself for this later, but I'll give you a leg up."

"You'll 'elp me?" I slurred.

"Yes," he raised an eyebrow, "that's what I just said."

He led me down the walkways of the city by hand. It became clear he was the opposite of me. He knew this place like the back of his hand.

The city sprawled in every direction. There's no way I could have navigated this place on my own. Frankly, I wasn't sure how anyone could.

We entered what I deduced was the market area my Dad frequented. Likely due to the rain, many of the vendors had closed up shop.

"Wh-where are we going?" I asked. "All the shops are closed."

"Yeah," he agreed, "but I know one fella who's still in."

It wasn't long before we reached the stand. A man in his fifties, about a decade older than my Dad, was sorting through his inventory.

"Hey, Azrael,"

The man slowly turned to look at us. He smiled in recognition.

"Good to see you, lad," he observed me with interest. "I never expected you'd make a friend, though."

"We don't know each other well enough to be 'friends'," he retorted matter-of-factly. "He's good, though. If I let him die, the bad ones would take over."

"An astute observation," the old man chuckled. "Though, with that tunnel vision you get, I bet you haven't even told the boy your name."

"He doesn't need to know."

"I thought you said he was one of the 'good' ones. Could it really hurt?"

"It's not like it would suddenly make his pain go away."

"W-well," I huddle up closer to him. "I do feel weird, not knowing what to call you."

He shoots daggers into my eyes. "Don't think that naïve kid act will work on me. I'm not that easy to manipulate."

"I-I don't want to… manipulate you," I shook my head, "I… I want to thank you."

He raised his hand up to protest but decided against following through. "You're making me go against my better judgement, you know."

I lowered my head. He rolled his eyes.

"It's Dagran,"

"Dagran," I repeated once to myself, "Thank you, Dagran. You saved my life."

"Don't make such a fuss about it," he shot back, "it's not like I'm expecting you to pay me. The only thing I want is for you to live your life to the fullest."

He ushered me inside before I could reminisce. "And if telling you my name helps you find closure, then it's worth it."

"You're not coming in, lad?" Azrael asked.

"'Fraid not," he shook his head. "I need a little more money for tomorrow. There's always someone desperate enough to hire a twelve-year-old."

"Wait!" I shouted. "You'll be okay… right?"

His initial confusion at my statement was promptly replaced with scorn. "Are you serious? I know enough about this city to know the only way you'll survive is if you're your own master. Damn, you must have had some nasty nightmares."

"N-no," I shook my head, trying my best to look tough. "I'm just glad to know you'll be alright."

"Hey," he frowned, "I am putting my life on the line every day, you know. There are worse jobs, but mercenary work isn't exactly a walk in the park."

"But…" I bit my lip. "I thought you were only twelve."

"Shite happens," he shrugged, "and it pays better than the other crummy jobs I could be doing. Besides, safer lines of work won't get me anywhere near my dream."

The old man beamed. I stare at Dagran in wonder. "You're dream?"

"Yes," he adjusted his posture, a sense of boyish determination in his eyes I wasn't used to seeing from him. "There's no way in hell I'm staying a mercenary forever. I can do more in this world, I know I can, and bad circumstances ain't an excuse. I'll become the best mercenary this country's ever seen, and when I've gone as far as I can on my own,"

He bowed. "I'm going to become a knight."

I giggled. The old man followed suit.

"It's no joke," he adjusted his 'cloak'. Even I could tell from where I stood that his cheeks were red. "I'm already better than many men older than me. And powerful men need strong men to protect them. I could be that if I wanted to."

"I'm sorry," I jumped in to apologize first. "I just… I didn't know you could be that enthusiastic."

"Well…" He tried to decide on an answer. "I'm just trying to set a good example." He winked. "Guts and perseverance go a long way in accomplishing your dreams, but if you don't have any passion, you won't get anywhere. You need to want what you're pursuing in life, and you need to know why you want it. Otherwise, you're dream will be nothing more than a lingering thought."

He straightened out his cloak. "Was that clear?"

I nodded.

"It won't be easy," he warned me, "you might be alright now, but you're gonna have struggles. No one comes out from what you did unscathed. But you're a good kid. I can feel it. If you wanted to, you could accomplish anything. Ya hear me?"

Tears welled up in my eyes. For a moment, he regretted his words, but he maintained his resolve.

"I wouldn't want it to come at you unexpectedly,"

He began to walk off.

"Wait!"

He turned around. "Now what? I haven't got all night."

I stepped out into the rain, which had now settled to a drizzle. "I know what my dream is now."

"How proactive of you," he crossed his arms. "What's you dream?"

"I…" I twiddled my fingers. My mother liked to embarrass me by pointing out this more feminine body language to my father whenever he was home. "I want to be knight like you!"

Dagran was stunned silent. He legitimately didn't know what to say in that moment.

"I know it'll be hard. I know the odds are against me. I know I've never wielded a sword before. But I've got some muscle on me! Farm work will do that for you! I'm sure I have the strength to wield a sword! And I may not be a very good reader, but I'll have someone teach me! And then, when I'm decent with a weapon, I'll find you again. So we can be knights together, I'll have you make me the best swordsman there ever was!"

Noticing his expression, I took a couple steps back. "Next to you, of course,"

Dagran chuckled. It's the first time I'd seen him do that.

"You'll stick to that?"

"I promise I will!" I shouted for all the world to hear. He placed his face in his palm in response.

"Well, you've got a long way to go," he grinned. "But I trust you'll make it that far."

With the conversation ended, Dagran ran off. The rain finally stopped, and sunlight scattered across the city. Looking at it now, it wasn't so gray.

"The first step to getting that dream will be finding somewhere to live," Azrael kneeled. "I'll admit, I get awful lonely tending to my wares all by myself. I asked Dagran if he wanted to live here, but he said he'd rather be entirely self-sufficient. You, however, have even loftier ambitions than he does. If you'd help me with my business, I'd gladly take you in?"

"Really?!" My eyes brightened.

"Really," He patted my back.

"Thank you," I wrapped him up best I could. He was tall, even taller than my dad. "I'll do the best I can to help you."

"I know you will, boy," he pulled me in closer. "I know you will,"

 ** _I'm still batting around where exactly I want to take this, but I really wanted to write a story that emphasized how close Dagran and Zael's friendship is. The latter in particular felt bland in the game, so I'm re-working him from the ground-up. A number of characters (Dagran, for example) will remain close to their canon counterparts, while a few will definitely be changed. One thing's for sure; this version of the tale will end up in quite a different place than canon did._**


	2. Chapter 2

**2: My Journey's First, Awkward Steps**

"Are you sure you're ready, Zael?"

"Sure am!" I was lying through the skin of my teeth, of course. I hadn't seen Dagran swing a single strike with his sword, and I knew he was still above my level. But now that I knew how to wield a weapon of some manner, I figured I was ready to be his ward.

"Your eagerness to get out doesn't happen to be stemming from the fact it's been a year since you came here, does it?"

"Well… It does a little bit," I laughed, "but I can feel how much stronger I've grown since then. What's the worst that could happen, anyways, he tells me no? I'll just work harder and harder until I feel I'm ready, and try again."

Azrael stroked his chin in thought. I hoped he didn't take offense to how eager I seemed to get out of his place. I mean, he took me in basically out of the blue that day. I've helped him with his store, granted, but that hardly seems enough payment for all that he's done for me.

"I know I'm leaving awfully soon," I confessed, "and I know there's so much more I could do to pay you back. How about this; if I make it as a mercenary, I'll pay you 30% of the profits."

"Zael, Zael, Zael, my boy," He patted my shoulder, "you didn't let me finish."

"Oh," I blushed, "sorry."

"First of all, you're not planning on moving out, as far as I know…?" He gave me a suspicious look.

"No, of course not," I said, then mumbled, "let's just say my coffers have seen better days…"

"My point is, this is hardly good-bye. Second,"

He glanced up at the training sword he gifted me. "I wish you the best of luck. Not once have I seen you go back on your word to Dagran."

"Of course I haven't!" I retaliate perhaps a bit too strongly. "Maybe I should've thought about my promise a little more, but… How could I do anything less? I can never truly repay my debt to him, so the least I can do is take his advice. And if I can support him, help him fulfill his dream, than that would be even better."

"I know you will," he crossed his arms, "although, as you are, you're not exactly equipped to fight

"What-?" I glanced down at my outfit. "I figured I'd be inconspicuous. Mercenaries should blend in with their environment, so they can hide from their clients, right?"

Azrael raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I suppose staying alive would be important,"

"You 'suppose'?" Azrael chuckled.

"Hey, I'm new at this. But once Dagran shows me the ropes, it'll be smooth sailing."

"If you come to him dressed like that, he'll kick you out of whatever filthy tavern he's lurking in."

I slouched, dismayed I'd gotten so much wrong already. Azrael, noticing my concern, held up an index finger. "Before you head out, I've got a surprise for you."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he took book after book out of one of his shelves. "Come on, where'd I put that—Ah!"

I heard coins jangling in a bag. "Oh, Azrael, you didn't have to—"

"I'm going to stop you right there," he held up his hand. "You've worked your arse off since you got here. Never complained, never ran out on me. You will never know how much of a boon you working here was."

He motioned for me to hold out my hands, and he dropped the bag of money in them.

"There are two types of people Dagran likes; those who are smart, and those he can trust. You're as loyal as a pup, but I can't really speak for your intelligence."

"Hey, a moron wouldn't learn from their mistakes," I pointed at him.

"A good point, boy," he pushed me towards the door. "Now, there's a tavern a few blocks down from here. On the way, however, you'll find a smithy where you can get outfitted. I'd suggest a light armament, apparel that'll keep you safe but won't slow you down so much your reaction time is the speed of a tortoise. I'd suggest the same with the sword. Find something like the training blade you used here. That way, the learning curve won't be so high."

"Okay,"

"Wait."

He stopped me again. "Is there something else?"

"Yes," he handed me a note.

"These are the instructions you just gave me." I rolled my eyes. "I would've remembered, you know."

"I don't think so boy," he shook his head. "You might not know the names, but the lady who works there is a patient one. She'll suggest the right weapon for you."

"Alright," I smirked, "am I good now?"

He considered me for a moment. "As good as you'll ever be at this point,"

"Come on, have a little faith in me."

"I do, boy," he stared up at the ceiling, "I guess Dagran's cynicism rubbed off on me a little."

"Well, that's never gonna happen to me," I retorted, "He needs some positivity in his life. I think having someone he needs to reign in every once in a while, would be good for him."

"I don't think he'd see it that way," he shrugged, "but I hope for your sake, he does."

"Good-bye, Azrael," I waved.

"Stay safe, Zael," he smiled.

* * *

The muck of the city couldn't take away how beautiful the twilight sky was. Dazzling dark blue hues coated the clouds circling overhead. Maybe it was just me projecting my love of sleep onto the night itself, but the end of the day signified a resting period. Once I reached that point, I earned relief from the toils I encountered during the day. I could rest my head, and let my mind wander.

" _And every night, Mum would sing me a lullaby that ensured I'd sleep well…"_

I tightened my fist, shaking the thought away. For all my effort to stay upbeat and helpful around Azrael, painful memories like that still hit me occasionally. I'd gotten damn good at hiding it, so I imagined Azrael thought I was all better, but the first month or so was by far the most difficult. At night, I couldn't even sleep. I'd spend hours crying about how much I missed them.

Some days, I prayed that they might come back to me. When they didn't, I felt worse.

By the morning, I'd always find the strength to feign a smile. Cracks would show from time to time, but I exuded a strength that was so convincing Azrael only confronted me about my trauma once or twice.

" _There were some days I wish I could've told him everything… But I know that would've been a bad idea. He's done so much for me. The last thing I should do to repay him is burden him with my struggles. Besides, if I shared every last painful thought with him, I'd start doing the same with Dagran. He'd hate that sort of thing."_

Such contemplations made the journey quicker. I walked through the front door of the smithy Azrael recommended.

My nose met the scent of tempered flame. A woman with a crude metal mask on her head and gloves on her hands lifted the former when she saw me.

"You here on your own?"

"Um…" _"Dammit, Zael. Don't let the anticipation cause you to freeze on the moment's truth."_ "Yes."

"You look awfully young to be buying this stuff by yourself." She crossed her arms. "Hate to break it to you, but this stuff's probably out of your price range."

"Normally, I'd say you'd be right, but,"

I showcased the bag of money.

"Holy crap," she stepped back, "where does a kid your age get that much money?"

"Well, to be perfectly honest—" " _There's no need to reveal that sort of information! Dagran would say there's no point in exposing your weaknesses to strangers."_ "I worked my arse off for it,"

She threw her head back and laughed hysterically. "Well, you do seem to have some muscle on you. I could believe you'd be able to make some good money working for the right people. What do you need?"

"Well, I need a… well… you see, I need a…"

"Weapon?"

"Yes, a weapon," " _Dammit, Zael, stop blowing it!"_ "A sword, to be precise."

"Hon, that's not precise," She rolled her eyes. "What you looking for in a sword?"

"Well…" _"Give it up, wannabe. One defeat doesn't lose the war. Besides, you'll surely feel confident once you're equipped."_ "I know it's silly, but I'm having trouble remembering what I need off the top of my head. Here's a note that describes the stuff I need."

"Alrighty," she scanned the note quickly, and her eyes widened. "Wait a second. Did Azrael write this for you?"

"Yes," I blushed, still embarrassed at that fact.

"Then, you're Zael." She slapped herself on the head. "I feel so daft for not realizing it was you."

"Don't worry about it," I shook my head, "I don't stick out that much."

"No, it's not even that," she leaned over the counter. "I work all day, so I don't come by the market much. I buy food from the carts in the Castle Plaza. But, good ol' Azrael comes by to have his practice sword sharpened every now and then. I thought it was just so he could get some exercise, but you must have been using it."

"Yup," I beamed, "I'm on my way to becoming a knight!"

"That's the right attitude. Dream big!" She frowned. "Although, try not to be a jackass like most of the other knights are. Okay?"

"S-sure," I found the comment strange. I figured most people would be grateful to have the knights around.

"But back on track, I have an idea of the type of load that would suit you best." She put her mask back on. "Give me a bit, and I'll have it ready for ya."

* * *

Before opening the door to the tavern, I found myself hesitating again. Was I ready to face Dagran? Sure, I looked the part, but what if I piqued his interest, only to disappoint him when I showed him what I knew? What if he was so disappointed that he told me to stop wasting his time?

" _Shut it. You've worked hard to get here. All you can do now is show him what you've got. If he doesn't like it, then you just need to give it another year or two."_

Putting on the brightest smile I can muster, I opened the door.

I thought the market was loud, but the tavern was on another level entirely. Half of the customers yelled nonsense at the top of their lungs, while the others laughed along with them. The smell made my stomach turn. _"I've got to get out of here."_

I did my best to peer in between the bodies around me for Dagran. Finding him wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be.

He stared up at a board on the wall with written notes attached to it. I could tell he was crossing his arms.

"HEY! DAGRAN!"

Despite the unbearable jeers from the other inhabitants of the tavern, Dagran heard me loud and clear. I noticed him flinch. I tried to slip through the bodies around me to get to him, but I feared what might happen if one of these rowdy people took notice of me.

He approached me at a careful pace. His eyes seemed calm as always, calmer even.

It creeped me out a little.

"Dagran!" I shook his hand vigorously. "It's so good to see you again!"

"Right," he observed me, "is this your first time in a tavern?"

"Well…" I hung my head. "Yes."

"I have to admit, you've become much more level-headed since I've last seen you."

"Really?" I perked up.

"No,"

I hung my head.

"Why don't we talk outside?" He offered. "I have a hunch you can barely hear me in here."

"What did you say?" I yelled back at him.

"Great…" He yanked my arm towards the door and dragged me back outside.

"Thanks for that," I smiled. "It's much easier to talk like this."

"It also leaves us exposed," he retorted, "do you anyone walking around?"

I glanced at my surroundings. He was right. The air was oddly quiet for the city. The only noise I heard was the tavern festivities happening behind that door.

"Is that because it's late at night?"

"…Exactly," he nodded, less angry than before, "the only type of people who lurk at this time of night are the ones who'd kill for cash. At least in the tavern, there's a dense group of people, so it's easy to run away if you need to. But here?"

He pointed to a nearby rooftop. "A sniper could be on the roof just behind its highest point, and you wouldn't have any idea he was there."

"So…" I snapped my fingers. "If we want to be safe, we should be indoors?"

"Exactly," he rolled his eyes. "Calling me out was also a bad idea. Can you guess why?"

"Um—"

"If you don't have any words to say," he cut me off, "don't let them leave your mouth. A precise tongue goes far in shady jobs like mine."

I thought for a bit. "It singled you out?"

He crossed his arms. "A lot of the people in there are drunk off their arses. But not all to the same extent. The only reason I don't stand out is because I'm quiet and don't make any sounds. However, there are some underworld circles who need children for their particular enterprises."

He narrowed his eyes. "And if you think that sounds scary, you don't want me to divulge on the details."

I swallowed. "In other words, I put you in danger."

"Not me," he responds, "I could've gotten out fine. But you wouldn't have been so lucky."

I gasped. He appeared irritated by my pronounced response.

"And that would be a shame," he stared at me. "As naïve as you might be, I see some potential for good in you. If you wanted, you could be one of the better knights in this once-great kingdom. But you need discipline. You need to reel in that carefree attitude of yours. You want to be a knight? In your head, you're still some eight-year-old wandering through a meadow with nothing to drive you."

 _That_ pissed me off. I unsheathed my sword.

"Nice blade," he acknowledged, "but I doubt the money came out of your pocket."

I lost all sense of control and charged him. He easily blocked my first strike.

"There you go, acting like a kid again. Instead of trying to debate my criticisms, you lash out like a moron."

"I've been working my arse off," I lashed out again. This time, he just moved out of the way. "since the day helped me. I've gotten stronger. I've learned how to use this—"

I swung my sword over my head and tried to break his stance. It was useless, of course. He overpowered me easily. But in that moment, I wanted to prove him wrong.

"In the broadest sense of the word." He pushed me off of him. I nearly toppled to the ground. "You have some manner of a stance, but it's too fluid. Your strokes have power behind them, but they could be so much more if you applied any kind of strength to them."

"I AM applying strength," he blocked me again.

"Not as much as you could," he returned, "you have so much passion, it's clouding your sense of rationality. You know how to use one of these things, but you have no idea what you need to do to master it. Did you expect this to impress me?"

"No!"

We stopped abruptly.

"Not this," I pointed to my sword, "not my armor, not my bloody muscles. I wanted to show you how much more confident I'd become."

For once, he failed to come up with a response. I continued undeterred.

"I wanted to show you that I wasn't the useless weight you had to carry home back then. If I had to protect Azrael, I would kill a man to do it. I may not be as familiar with the streets as you are, but I didn't know who to trust. I didn't have someone to teach me. So I thought, once I show him how much I've tried to learn by getting all of this stuff, and meeting him in the tavern on his own, I'd show you how hard I'd tried to keep that promise. And here you are, telling me how horrible I was before I even had chance to show myself. It's… It's like you think I haven't tried at all."

He let the moment settle before commenting. I think a small part of him did think he was too harsh.

"You have it backwards, Zael,"

"What?" I said in disbelief.

"I know you've worked hard," he made eye contact with me again, "I know you've put in a lot into thinking about what you'd need to protect yourself in a world like this. Why do you think I was so specific in my criticisms? It's because I didn't _need_ to revisit the fundamentals. You'd already considered them. You didn't risk showing your weaknesses by taking Azrael with you. You remembered to buy equipment that matched your body type. You remembered to look for your target" he gestured at himself "instead of getting overwhelmed by the stuff happening around you. Because of that, I believed you were ready for me to be hard on you."

My desire to resist melted away.

"But, I was wrong. I should have tempered your enthusiasm back then. If you expected me to react better than this, then you made a promise to a man you barely knew. In fact, if you're so impulsive, maybe you just aren't cut out for this line of work. Take over Azrael's business. The people over there like you, don't they?"

His words baited me, but I wasn't angry anymore. In fact, I thought I was starting to understand what he was trying to get me to do with his words.

"I appreciate the effort. But perhaps I underestimated you."

He made a beeline for the door.

"I'm sorry, Dagran,"

I knew my peppy voice would draw his attention. "What's got you so happy all of a sudden?"

"I know exactly what my dream is, and how I'm going to get to it."

A sad smile crossed his face. "Yeah. I shouldn't be surprised. You're the type who bounces back easily."

"Yes," I shook my head. "My dream is to train hard, fight alongside you, and then become a knight."

He gritted his teeth. "Are you serious?"

"Aw, Dagran," I jogged up to him and bumped him on the shoulder, "you thought my anger was anything more than a spell? What you were trying to say finally got through to me."

He held back a chuckle. "And what exactly was I trying to tell you?"

"You wanted me to take your words as a challenge. You _do_ want to train me, and were just hoping to make sure my resolve hadn't dried up."

Dagran raised his eyebrow.

"Ah, you try to act so serious, Dagran, but I can read you like a book."

"No, you can't," this time, the chuckle came out uninhibited. "That's a nice theory you've got there, but I really had lost my patience."

"Well, I haven't," I responded quickly. "I'm not willing to settle. I know I want to be a knight. I know I want to make the guy who saved my life depend on me just as much as I depended on him. I know that together, we could be the best knights in all of Lazulis. No, in all the world! And unlike before,"

I stopped him with my index finger. "I have plan to get there."

"How's that?"

"Well, I'll consult the most prepared and dedicated source I could find," I poked his chest, "you."

He snickered. "Are you sure I wasn't just taking advantage of your situation? How do you know I didn't plan all this? You even made it sound like I was trying to manipulate you just a moment ago."

"No," I frowned, "that's not like you, Dagran. You're matter-of-fact and honest to a fault. I know I can trust you,"

He paused for a moment. I wondered if, slowly but surely, I was making him a bit less rigid.

He punched my breastplate. "Now, now, flattery will get you nowhere with me."

"It's not flattery if it's true," I reaffirm.

"Shut it," he groaned.

The door flies open behind us.

"Dagran? Hey, Dag—"

The guy looked a little older than Dagran. He wore a sly smirk and his top's uppermost buttons were undone, revealing an impressive pair of pecs. He stopped in his pursuit of Dagran when he noticed us.

"Now, I'm hurt." He leaned his back against the door. "You won't be friends with me, but this guy who just pops out of nowhere is worth your trust?"

"Well, _you're_ a jackass." Dagran shot back.

"That just means I'm straightforward," he shrugged, "that's not that different from you, is it?"

I couldn't help laughing a little. "What's your name?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he offered his hand. "I'm Zoran. I lift heavy stuff for the bartender here."

"I'm Zael," I shook his hand. "You know, you could make good money as a mercenary with that—"

"Don't give him any ideas," Dagran pulled on my ear. "Look, is there something you needed, Zoran?"

"The bartender wants to thank you personally for getting those pickpockets run out of town." He ran a hand through his hair. "And if I was that unlikeable, the boss wouldn't let me near his daughter."

"Yeah," Dagran whispered to me, "and before you know it, he'll have convinced her to bring him to her father's savings drawer."

"I can see you have a high opinion of women, Dagran." Zoran laughed.

"That's not what I meant!" He snapped. "My point was, you're looking for an opportunity to scam him."

"He really would be a good mercenary," I continued, "he heard you whispereing, and you were REALLY quiet, too."

"Zael, shut your trap," Dagran said.

"I like him." Zoran pointed to me. "He's the perfect complement, really."

He sauntered back to the door. "Come on, Dagran. I don't think the boss would like to be kept waiting."

"Okay," he headed up the stairs.

"Wait!"

I called out.

"Yes?"

"Are we, you know, partners now?"

Dagran considered the thought for a moment. After a moment of consideration,

"Show up at 6:00 at the Fountain Plaza tomorrow morning."

It wasn't quite an answer, but I'm pretty sure I knew what he was trying to say. While it wasn't quite what I wanted, he ended up salvaging what I, just minutes ago, was sure would turn out to be an awful night.

" _I mean, I wanted his instruction in the first place, didn't I?_

"Yeah," I beamed. "See you then."


End file.
